Jibblies 3: This Time, It's Realistical (for real this time!)
by CtrlAltEatReligiousCorn
Summary: Oh, just go read the description on the first version, lazy person. Also, if you would kindly not mention my hypocrisy, that would be very much appreciated. E-Clementine & Diluted Dolphin's first fic together! Much love!
1. Chapter 1

"For the love of Klingon, would you _open the freaking door?!_"

Strong Bad banged, kicked, slapped, punched, and even head-butted (even though he was wearing a gas mask) Strong Mad's door in futile attempts to break it down – or at least get his brother's attention. Unfortunately, Strong Mad was blasting Limozeen at top volume – Strong Bad had taught him all too well. In a final, desperate cascade of noise, he stomped to the other side of the hallway, got a running start (what there was room for), and threw himself at the door – just as it opened, and Strong Mad popped his head out. Strong Bad hit him full on in the face.

As malicious and disgusting fumes of the grossest kind filtered into the rest of the house, to Strong Sad's dismay, Strong Mad screamed at his other brother:

"STRONG BAD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Oh, sorry, big dude. I just needed to come into your room for a sec. I think I left my di – I mean jou- I mean notebook full of awesomesauce and totally not girly ideas and stuff that are definitely not my hopes and dreams and life…and stuff."

"OKAY, LITTLE BROTHER. COME IN."

"Well, considering I'm kind of already in – oh, never mind."

Strong Bad pushed (or rather, squeezed) past his big-in-a-different-sense-of-the-term brother. He made sure his mask was fastened tightly, and then began digging through Strong Mad's stuff. After a few minutes, he sat back and sighed.

"Dang it, it's gotta be in here somewhere! I've looked everywhere else in the house!"

"HEY STRONG BAD."

"Yeah?"

"WHERE DID YOU GET THAT GAS MASK?"

"Oh, uh…don't worry about that. I just got it from…a guy. A friend. Yeah."

"OKAY."

Strong Bad glanced desperately around the room. Wait a sec – he hadn't looked in the closet. But then again, that was for a reason – and he knew that reason all too well. Still, I _did _say 'desperately'…Strong Bad sighed again. Looked like he had no other choice. He edged closer to the closet, taking the tiniest steps he had taken since he was a baby. Slowly getting closer, closer, closer still…hearing the memory of a whisper, he shuddered, then got even closer –

"BROTHER! DON'T GO IN THERE! BAD IN THERE!"

"Yeah, I know, little bro. I know. But I have to."

Eventually, Strong Bad reached the door. He slowly pushed open the door…

There it was. His di- jou- notebook.

He breathed his relief and carefully reached in to grab it. Unfortunately, when he lifted it from its hiding spot, he couldn't help but notice what lay beneath it.

The last words he uttered before losing consciousness were, "Oh, crap."

A few minutes later, Strong Sad entered the room wearing a gas mask of his own. "Strong Mad, I've told you time and again, you can't leave the door to your room open for more than a few seconds. Now we're gonna have to find a hotel to spend the week in again. Do you realize how expensive-"

He stopped. Strong Bad was twitching helplessly on the floor.

"YOU LET HIM SEE THE PAINTING AGAIN?! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT REPEATED EXPOSURE COULD _DO_ TO HIM?!"

Strong Sad, showing an adrenaline-induced burst of superhuman strength, dragged his brother out of his room.

"Great. This is just wonderful. Strong Mad, how long has he been _lying _there like that?!"

This entire time, Strong Mad had been frozen in place, shocked by what he was witnessing, unable to understand. Strong Sad's direct question managed to snap him out of it.

"Uhh…ONE….TWO…FIVE…..Q…."

Of course, that doesn't mean he became at all helpful.

"Oh, never mind. We have to get him to a hospital. I've never heard of a seizure lasting this long. Strong Mad, help me get him into the car." Let me explain a couple things: one, Strong Sad lost his burst of strength, and Strong Bad was now lying on the floor again, not to be picked back up by Strong Sad alone. Two, a few weeks ago, Strong Bad had managed to fix and repaint the old car after SBemail 156 failed miserably. It was a feat of epic proportions, but somehow, he managed it. Please, PLEASE don't ask how.

Anyway, about 2 minutes later, all three of them were in the car. Strong Sad was in the front seat, and Strong Mad and Bad were in the backseat, the former buckled in with about 20 seatbelts, and the latter draped limply across the seat, still seizing – or maybe shivering. Strong Sad couldn't really tell. He was just starting the car when he realized something horrifying – there were no hospitals in Free Country. In fact, he had no idea where one might be. He thought frantically for about 10 seconds, and then had a sudden idea.

He wheeled over to Bubs' and ran – or rather, quickly plodded – to the window.

"BUBS! HEY, BUBS! GET OUT HERE! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR USUAL IDIOTIC LETHARGY! MOVE!"

Bubs rushed to the counter. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, S.S. Freak-out! What's the prob?"

"Bubs, you got a GPS anywhere?"

"Well…I'm sure I could look, but it ain't gonna come cheap."

"I KNOW, BUBS. YOU THINK I DON'T HAVE MONEY?!"

"Alright, alright, calm down! I'mma go check out the back. Tell you what, you hop over the counter and get yourself a sno-cone while I'm back there. On the house. Might help you cool down."

"I don't need a sno-cone, Bubs, just hurry, please!"

As Bubs dug through his stock, Strong Sad paced anxiously, which is not easy to do in a pair of soolnds, I'll tell you what. Finally, Bubs came back out with what was definitely a working, almost mint condition GPS.

"Bubs, if ever there were a time for you to have something that isn't black market material, now would be it. Thank you SO much."

"Anytime, Saddio, anytime."

Strong Sad raced back to the car and dove in, proceeding to straighten himself and hook up the GPS. He was a bit more technologically inclined than most people thought. He sat back in the driver's seat and entered 'hospital'. He then chose the closest option.

'Calculating route to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.'

A teaching hospital. Of course. Oh well…better than nothing, he supposed.

He restarted the car and drove off, hoping he'd make it in time. Then he glanced into the rearview mirror and realized that Strong Bad was no longer seizing – although he _had _broken out in a sweat. Strong Sad sighed and turned his sight to the fields in front of him, heading towards the highway, hoping it wasn't a long trip.

As Bubs watched him go, he said to himself, "I've never seen the guy in such a hurry. Wonder what he's got goin' on in that strange little head of his…"


	2. Chapter 2

Strong Sad pulled up at the hospital an hour later, almost fainting from a combination of frayed nerves and an empty stomach. He hadn't had time to grab lunch before hustling his brothers into the car. This thought for some reason made him remember a line from an old song he didn't quite know the name of:

'Sitting at the wheel of a large automobile.'

He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it before he remembered why the hell he had been driving so long in the first place. He went round to the back of the car and yanked open the door.

"I'LL CARRY HIM IN!" Said Strong Mad, throwing his limp brother over his shoulder. Sometimes, he just didn't think. Not like that was unusual.

"Be careful! We don't need to cause more damage! God, sometimes I just..."

Strong Sad pinched the area where the bridge of his nose might be if he had one. He'd forgotten his emergency bottle of aspirin he usually carried with him in case of headaches - although, for all he knew, it was empty anyway. He'd already gone through 4 or 5 bottles that year, and it was only May. He was beginning to wonder if he was really having headaches as often as he thought, or...

He shook his head and concentrated on herding his brothers into the hospital, a surprisingly difficult task considering one was still unconcious.

"Hello," said a sweet nurse. She didn't have a name tag. "What seems to be the problem?"

Strong Sad paused, all too aware of the nurse's lack of identification. Unfamiliar with current uniform regulations, however, he decided not to mention it...for the moment, anyway. What worried him more was the fact that she seemingly hadn't noticed the limp body hanging over Strong Mad's shoulder - although, to be fair, it was rather hard to see the top quarter of Strong Mad's body from her apparent vantage point. So he cleared his throat and thought about where to begin.

"Well, this is my older brother's..." He looked up, doing a bit of mental math. "Fourteenth seizure. It usually isn't anything serious most of the time. Just a bit of shaking, saying 'jibbilie' over and over again, and blacking out for a few minutes. It has happened to every resident in our town at least once. Except for Homsar. That guy's a freakin' weirdo."

"I see. We'll get him settled down as soon as possible. Please have a seat and relax. You seem stressed."

Strong Sad laughed bitterly. 'Maybe because I am,' he almost said, then realized that perhaps that might be a little rude...and off putting, for that matter. So he sat. And then kicked himself for his idiotic explanation. 'It has happened to every resident in our town at least once'?! Now she probably thought he had some weird contagious disease or something. And Homsar. Why the heck did he have to bring up Homsar?! It was ridiculous, is what it was. He sighed and grabbed a magazine to flip through distractedly while Strong Mad tried his absolute best to maneuver himself into a chair.

The silence helped him sleep. Not peacefully, though. All he could see was his brother endlessly twitching. By the time it had woken him up, Strong Mad was trying to get him to stop sobbing.

**Thanks so much for reading our first collaborative chapter of our first collaborative fanfic which we wrote COLLABORATIVELY! COLLAB RULES! AS DOES H*R! AND HOUSE! Much love to all our fans – and yes, we have many, MANY fans.**

**^_^ and (/_.)**


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